Life
by Lara1221
Summary: Three times Nicolas Flamel valued his elixir and one time he didn't. (All of them near death.)


**Disclaimer:** All of the things you recognize belong to JK Rowling and I strive to make no money. I also don't own the cover photo which I found on the HPwiki.

 **A/N:** This was sort of difficult for me to get going. I was fresh out of ideas, but I think I got stuck on one that I really like. I took a bit of liberty with the capability of the potion, but we don't really know what it can do so I think it'll be okay. I was also inspired by the poem If You Forget Me, by Pablo Neruda, and its a great read if you want to check it out and connect it to this story. **Written for (skip to story):**

 **QLFC rnd 7:** cat 1 reserve for arrows beater 1: elixir of life **; open cat 3:** canon **; hogwarts school comp yr 1: potions and astronomy:** write about a near death experience and write a romance — prompts: word: space; mood: intimate; action: kiss, hug; quote: "Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn't matter to me. . . Going to bed at night saying we've done something wonderful. . . that's what matters to me." – Steve Jobs; phrase: I love you; genre: romance; upper word limit: 3000; lower word limit: 900; poem: if you forget me – Pablo Neruda; opening sentence: the park was silent and covered in white as the snow slowly fell on him **;**

* * *

 _Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn't matter to me... Going to bed at night saying we've done something wonderful... that's what matters to me._ \- Steve Jobs

* * *

Life

o

 _ **L** ove_

The park was silent and covered in white as snow slowly fell on him. Nicolas rubbed his thumb against the back of Perenelle's hand, feeling their fingers tightly intertwined. He could feel the cold seeping in and was grateful for the warmth that she provided, pulling her in closer as they walked.

The silence was comfortable, even though there was a nervousness on both their minds. Today began their first journey into a new life. They had both worked for so long – Perenelle in her magic, Nicolas in his alchemy – until he finally achieved what he had strived so long to for: the Philosopher's Stone. It had happened twenty years ago, and he had brewed the Elixir and he and Perenelle had made their plans. This was it. They could live for as long as they liked, be together until the end, if they chose. They drank it as needed, keeping themselves young, and cast glamour charms when they went out into society. Eventually, they faked their own deaths.

And today, the Parisian community had buried their bodies.

And Nicolas and Perenelle were staring at their tombs.

Nicolas knew that Paris would always be their home. It would always hold so many incredible memories for him.

They had lived an incredible life.

But tomorrow began the opportunity to lead as many incredible lives as they wanted.

Nicolas looked to his wife. Perenelle's eyes stared unblinking at the tomb. She felt his eyes on him and turned, and Nic was unsurprised to see them full of unshed tears. She rushed forward and wrapped him in a hug, her face pressed into his shoulder. Her words came out in one quick motion, the beautiful French language on their tongue.

Nicolas promised himself then that he would always speak the language of his home.

"I can't believe it's finally happening. It doesn't feel real."

"It is real. You and I. Together, everywhere, forever."

The space between them and the tombstones felt indefinite.

(The first time, Nicolas was grateful he and Perenelle would never have to bury the other.)

o

 _ **I** llness_

It was a dark room lit only by a single candle. It never went out, which was the only sign of human life around because Perenelle was dying and Nicolas thought he may as well be, too. Without her, he didn't know who he could be.

It was a plague that was sweeping the continent. Wizarding and Muggle Worlds were being torn apart, and the body count just kept rising. They were going to travel, get away from the disease as fast as possible, but Perenelle caught it before they could get out.

They couldn't and wouldn't be responsible for spreading it somewhere new, where new people could die.

Someone had to be spared.

Nicolas prayed Perenelle could be, too.

There was no cure, really nothing they could do. After Perenelle contracted it, Nicolas took all the necessary precautions to make sure it didn't come his way. The amount of charms and protections he was encased in, accompanied with the wishful hopes that he wouldn't get it, had paid off. He was protected from nearly all the outside germs in the air, but they were Perenelle's healing spells that had got him here and it was all so damn unfair.

He knew one thing for sure: if Perenelle went, he would too.

But Nicolas did the one thing he could think of, the only possible way that might work to save his wife. The elixir was simply supposed to prolong life, but there couldn't possibly be that promise without some sort of push in the immune system. In the two centuries they had been using it, they had rarely fallen ill. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

So she drank, and drank, and drank. Nicolas worked rapidly to create extra doses to keep her fueled not only there but with food and water. She was always clean, she was always eating healthy, and she was drinking a potion that should make her life live on.

But Perenelle wasn't glowing. She was dying. And Nicolas could only sit by and hope that when the potion reached its full potential, she would recover.

Who knew when that would be?

She was sleeping now. She looked young, peaceful, and innocent. But there was an unhealthy pallor to her skin and her breathing was heavy and her pulse was slow; she was tragically beautiful.

Nicolas gazed at her an admiration, hoping he could show her how much he loved her simply by looking at her, and hoping that would be enough. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead; her eyes fluttered open.

"I love you, darling," he whispered against her hair, his voice as gentle as ever.

Perenelle leaned into his touch. "I love you, too."

In a moment, she was asleep again, and Nicolas allowed himself to cry until he fell asleep.

He awoke in the middle of the night to Perenelle's rapid heartbeat, and they held each other as close as they could and cried until morning.

(The second time, Nicolas realized that nothing could stop them.)

o

 _ **F** ragility_

The hospital was flooded. It was like this every night, and Nicolas knew he should be used to it by now. That's what hospitals were for, after all.

He just couldn't get their lives out of his head. These people always looked so young, so old, so weak, or so frail, despite the malady that ailed them. Dragon pox, broken bones, spells gone wrong, it didn't matter. However drastic the injury, their lives were at stake, and most of them would make it out but did that make up for those who wouldn't?

He and Perenelle had been working as Healers here in Shanghai for months now. They had always done something different in the cities they visited, a mix of adventure and helping others in any way they could. This was the first time they had worked for it, though, really invested their time and energy. It only made sense; they both had years of experience, and could be a great asset.

But usually, to make a living, they took up odd jobs, or started a small business. They had their worldly possessions, they had each other, and that was enough to get by.

This was the first time that society would be relying on them.

The first time they were important in a very, very long time.

Each day, Nicolas tended to thousands, and at the end of it, he and Perenelle got to hold each other, knowing it would all be okay in the morning, despite those they could save and those they couldn't. They were making a difference, but the feeling wasn't amazing enough to forget those that died.

Nicolas realized he and Perenelle never ran out of chances. These people had just one.

And each day, they went into the Hospital to make sure it was a great one.

(The third time, Nicolas found out they should value their lives far more than others.)

o

 _ **E** ven in Death_

(The only time he didn't, Nicolas didn't want to, anyway.)

Nicolas watched as Perenelle walked with her slow grace. Even after all these years, she had never lost herself. He changed, adapted through each of their journeys. He never lost sight of the things most important to him: his home, his wife, his philosophy; but he did tend to forget old knowledge, change habits with time. Perenelle managed to blend all of their adventures together, keep everything she had ever experienced in her heart and become someone who never lost sight of who she was nor what was in the future. He admired her more than she would ever know. And since the elixir no longer existed, they had been rapidly aging, making up for their cheated years.

They were sitting down to eat the dinner they had cooked together, a recipe of Nicolas's mother's that had always been one of their favorites.

Dinner passed in silence and smiles, and it wasn't until Perenelle placed down her fork and looked him in the eyes that he knew they were going to talk about it.

"How much longer, Nic?"

He let out a breath. "I'm really not sure. Soon. And I'll have you when it comes." Nicolas smiled softly, and she returned it.

"Is this it? You're positive we should no longer travel? No longer live?"

Nicolas was surprised there were tears in his eyes. "The stone is destroyed, this is it. We made our decision." He leaned over and kissed his wife on the lips. "I've lasted a thousand lifetimes and could last a thousand more, but I'm always living when I'm with you." Perenelle reached up and wiped the tears from his aging face, even as she began to cry. She curled her long fingers into the silver hair at his neck, and kissed him long and hard. In that moment, Nicolas felt more immortal than he ever had.

When she pulled away, she said only "Je t'aime."

The evening passed until they retired, and whispers of love were shared as their breathing came out slow and even, until they spent the night asleep curled up in each other's arms as they always did.

It was their last.

o


End file.
